


Unexpected

by Silent_So_Long



Series: Kreuzberg Dragonshifters [2]
Category: Rammstein
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Attempt at Humor, Dragons, Dragonshifters, Graphic Description, M/M, Sexual Content, Silly, Soul Bond, Urban Fantasy, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-27 12:00:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6283630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul, Richard and an unexpected partial shift</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short one-shot which bridges the gap between 'Flying in a Blue Dream' and its proper full-length, upcoming sequel.

Paul felt tendrils of heated air coil and sway about his body as he stepped out of the shower, skin pleasantly warm and thoroughly scrubbed clean of the dirt of the day. His hair was damp and clung in wet strands against his scalp, which sent skeins of water sliding over his still wet skin. He sighed, contentedly and languidly plucked the towel from the hook on the back of the bathroom door, before he wiped himself dry with long, slow strokes of his hands, mopping up every last drop of moisture from his glistening skin. Once Paul was satisfied that he was going to be as dry as he ever was going to get, he began to dress, pulling on his underwear and his trousers first, flexing his toes against the dampness of the linoleum floor once the clothing was in place. He pulled on his shirt, and felt the soft nap of it clinging to his skin before he padded over to the mirror, to comb his hair into something like its normal style, fighting against the wet strands until they each lay flat and neat. 

Paul stared at his own reflection, at the way his eyes had taken on a jewel-like sheen since his transformation, oddly luminescent and quite unlike the misty-blue they'd been before. Just the previous day Flake had casually remarked about how Paul's eyes had taken on a hue much like Richard's own, whose eyes resembled shiny dragon-jewels. Paul had pretended not to hear, merely continued to sing and to boil the kettle, movements purposefully loud and soon turning clumsy as he'd accidentally knocked a jar of instant coffee over. Flake had popped his head through from the main part of Comic World and had cursed Paul for once again being a clumsy fool, yet the eye-related moment had passed, and the change in Paul's eyes had not been mentioned again. Paul hadn't been sure then, and wasn't sure now how he even was expected to explain his eyes away, without giving away his newest, and greatest, secret; despite his discomfited confusion, he found that he liked the changes.

Paul's eyes were not the only thing that had changed, he'd noticed; other than his new mated soul-bond with Richard, where emotions played in bright colours behind their eyes, his sense of smell was stronger now, his eyes and ears keener and sharper, and his hands held a strength he'd never known in his life before. He was constantly aware of a boiling sensation in his abdomen, like a low-level fire constantly burning and rumbling away, and sometimes, when he was with Richard, making love, his cries were deeper, more like dragon's roars than human cries of pleasure. His body felt stronger, more vibrant and alive and he was constantly aware of an untapped power flowing through his veins, and the odd pressure of a dragon coiled constantly beneath his skin. Even his wings felt cramped, constantly ready to unfurl and to stand proudly from his body and sometimes it took all of Paul's concentration to keep his other side from bursting out accidentally. 

Richard had assured him that that compunction to change would grow less over time, that Paul would know better how to control it and to tame the beast that growled within him, until keeping the pressure to a dull roar became second nature to him. Richard had had to tame his own beast the hard way, learning through trial and error on his own, whilst in New York and beyond, until he'd fully mastered his beast. He'd returned to Berlin, to familiar streets that he'd once called home, and that had called to him once more. Paul was glad that Richard had returned; if he hadn't, then Paul himself would not have had the chance to meet him, even if he had ran the other man down accidentally. 

Paul turned away from the mirror, hair now successfully brushed into his usual style, when he heard a soft knock at the door, followed by Richard's voice issuing forth through the wooden barrier. He could feel, and see, Richard's contentment in a swirling miasma of orange behind his eyes, warming and comforting Paul in turn.

"Your dinner's nearly ready, Paulchen," Richard murmured and even though his voice was pitched low and to an oddly throaty, intimate pitch, Paul still could hear every word, could hear every intake of soft breath that the other man took.

"Okay, dear," Paul said, with a smile. "I'll be right out." 

He heard a slight, pleased sound emanating from the other man, as well as felt the soft pink of his love'rs pleasure, as though Richard had liked the term of endearment; Paul smiled, and wondered why it came so easily for him to call the other man love, or dear, or darling, when he hadn't had the urge to do it with anyone else. He supposed then that he'd never truly loved anyone before, until Richard had arrived in his life. He sighed again, checked his own reflection once more and turned to leave the room, taking the wet towel with him. 

Paul passed through the kitchen to the small utility room that butted off the kitchen, and slipped the towel into the tumble dryer: he set the machine into rumbling, drying life before he returned to the kitchen, where Richard was just beginning to serve up. Richard glanced up , and smiled at Paul as he ladled out fried eggs from a pan, to join perfectly cooked sausages and hash browns upon matching twin pates. 

"That smells nice," Paul said, appreciatively, as he padded forward, to filch a spare hash brown from the pan, ripping a hungry bite from its edge before Richard could protest.

A sudden sharp burst of lemon-yellow amusement spiralled behind his eyes, and Paul caught the corresponding grin upon Richard's lips. Whilst the potato was hot still, Paul didn't mind; instead, he demolished the fluffy potato treat, teeth crunching through the crisp exterior to get to the softer middle. He licked his fingers and hunted for more, whilst Richard tapped out a generous measure of parsley across the glistening surface of the fried eggs. Paul snaffled another hash brown, as salt and pepper followed the herb onto the food; Paul inhaled deeply, eyes closing in enjoyment at the delicious smells, until a sudden burning, tickling sensation coursed against the back of his throat and in his nose. He tried to stop the pepper induced sneeze before it even came, yet the urge was too powerful to ignore. He stepped away, hands held as a temporary shield across his face as a loud sneeze ripped from his mouth and his nose, ricocheting from the walls, as another loud ripping noise sounded from behind him. He felt as tough his back had given way, bright pain shooting through his muscles and his skin and he yelled in sudden shock. A swift crashing sound followed swiftly on the heels of the second noise, soon chased by a surprised yell and bright white burst from Richard's side of their link; a barrage of laughter filled curses from Richard soon filled the air around Paul and he sent a red-washed burst of embarrassed shame across their link. 

"Jesus, Paul," Richard said, even as Paul began to turn round, aware then that he'd partially shifted with the force of his sneeze.

His wings had appeared and ripped through the fabric of his shirt, and were, even now, dragging against the ground, oddly cramped in the small confines of the kitchen. He reached up and flicked the leathern edge of one his wings, as they folded and began to flat against his still human body. He still could feel Richard's amusement, dancing in lemon-yellow waves inside his head. 

"It's that bloody pepper," Paul insisted, even as he felt Richard's hands upon his sides soothing against him and soft murmurs of encouragement softly murmured against his ears. "That's what made me change, or at least partially, anyway." 

"Change back for me, darling," Richard murmured against him, as he rocked Paul comfortingly, soothingly against him. "Tuck your wings away before you cause any more damage." 

"Damage? Why? What's broken?" Paul asked, in growing sudden alarm, even as he began to break away from his lover's body to check for damage, yet Richard caught him between strong hands and stayed him where he stood. "Not the dinner?" 

"No, you just missed our plates, thank fuck," Richard laughed as he reached round Paul's body to rub his hands gently against the bases of Paul's wings.

Paul sighed and closed his eyes, body relaxing still more, as Richard massaged and soothed him; he felt his wings folding away until there was nothing left but his human shell again. He turned fullyaround and saw that the pots and pans that Richard had been using were scattered across the floor; the bowl that had been used to heat the baked beans was broken into earthenware shards against the tiles beneath their feet. 

"Oh fuck," Paul groaned as he knelt, to begin picking up the mess he'd inadvertantly created.

He looked up when he felt Richard's hand upon his head, fingers stroking against his hair and attracting Paul's attentions back to his amused lover again. 

"Leave it, love," Richard advised gently. "We can clear up after dinner. The food will get cold, otherwise." 

Paul grunted softly, before he nodded and turned back, unconvinced, to stare at the mess upon the floor. Eventually, he rose at Richard's gentle, and repeated, insistence, to settle at the table; he ate hungrily, spooning great forkfuls of Richard's cooking into his mouth as though the meal would be taken away from him if he wasn't careful or didn't eat it swiftly enough. Richard ate just as swiftly, just as hungrily, and he smiled across the table at Paul's obvious appreciative enjoyment; Paul could feel the aqua-blue waves of his lover's hunger diminishing only sligtly with every mouthful of food that disappeared between Richard's lips and knew that Richard himself felt the corresponding waves of Paul's own aqua-blue hunger. Paul finished his plateful of food and loudly asked for more; Richard laughed, nodded, finished his last scraping mouthful before he filled their plates again. Both dragons ate, finally pushing their plates away with mutual sounds of satisfaction once they were all but licked clean.

Paul stood then, to make the coffee, and to carve great chunks of apfelkuchen from the pan he'd prepared the day before. He made a swift jug of custard from a packet they'd bought from ALDI, whilst the kettle boiled, before they ate the dessert with great enjoyment. They sat chatting for a while, about music, about films and books, whilst they digested their food, before they got up, to clear away the remnants of their meal and to clean the floor of the mess that Paul had inadvertently created earlier in the evening.

"Sorry about the mess," Paul said, looking a little sheepishly from his place by the spilled remnants of the beans at Richard. "I didn't expect that to happen. I didn't know partial changes were even a thing." 

He gestured towards the memory of his wings and laughed a little self-consciously, feeling the blast of red embarrassment trickling through their bond. Richard laughed and patted Paul's head consolingly.

"They are and I suppose it happens to the best of us," Richard snorted, a little roughly. "Imagine doing that in a bloody American diner, like I did. I think the pepper set me off, as well." 

"You didn't," Paul laughed, as he turned a surprised grin upon his lover. 

"Yeah. I did. I had to make a quick dash for it before the cops arrived. Everyone seemed to think I was a weirdly disguised robber or something," Richard laughed. "Needless to say, I never went back there again." 

"I'll bet," Paul murmured, as he continued to wipe the mess of beans from the floor. "I suppose I'll get the hang of it eventually."

"You will. I did. Besides, I'm here to help you," Richard assured him, stoutly, as he sent a lick of calming amber reassurance at Paul. "I had no one." 

"It must have been hard," Paul observed softly, as he dumped his handful of messy kitchen towels and earthenware shards into the bin. "Having to learn all that by yourself." 

"It was, but it's not like I had a choice," Richard pointed out, not unkindly. "Plus, I suppose it's not all that hard, once you get used to it. Just make sure that no one sees you and don't wear your best clothes before you change; then again, I suppose you can't plan for surprise changes. By the way, Paulchen, your shirt's ripped at the back."

He gestured towards the twin gashes that had been ripped into Paul's shirt; Paul swore and left the room, to change into another shirt. Richard was already washing up by the time that he returned, offering Paul a smile over the curve of one broad shoulder as Paul joined him at the sink. Paul returned the smile and began mopping up the washed plates and cutlery diligently, silently, companionably; he felt the peaceful orange of contentment setting over them both, shared and reciprocated, and often tinged with flashes of red love. Once the things had been cleared away, they brewed another cup of coffee apiece, before they took their steaming, fragrant mugs into the lounge, where they settled before the TV, to watch the latest episode of Bates Motel. 

Paul settled against Richard comfortably, legs bent and curled up against the sofa; Richard's arm was a comfortable, comforting weight around his shoulders, fingers describing warm patterns against his upper arm as he did so. Paul turned his face up to Richard's on occasion, silently asking for kisses with pouting lips and half-closed eyes, soon rewarded by smiling smooches from his lover, often joined by a silver-flecked gold dragon kiss over their bond. Once the episode had finally finished, they watched the news headlines, before they stood, Richard stretching with many popping joints as the TV blinked off into a black, blank screen. They yawned their way to bed, where they changed into pyjama bottoms, to settle beneath the covers, at last. 

The night was hot, and humidly sticky against their bodies, and Paul found it hard to sleep at first. He could tell by the sound of Richard's breathing that his lover was not able to achieve sleep either, a faint grey irritation ebbing and flowing with every third breath his lover took. Paul turned over with a sigh, so that he was facing Richard, to find that the other man's eyes were partially open, shining brightly in the dimness of their room. Richard smiled when he realised that Paul's equally luminous eyes were upon him, but didn't immediately say anything to him. Paul attempted to say something, yet his words were overtaken by a yawn that broke through and distorted them; Richard waited patiently until the yawn had gone, before Paul attempted to speak again.

"Can't sleep, dear?" he asked, softly.

"No. You?" Richard asked, with a grin that was a little cheeky.

"No," Paul said, with a matching mischievous grin.

Richard huffed, yet didn't speak further; they lay in companionable silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the apartment building settling around them. A few floors above them, they could hear the noisy sounds of an action film playing against the backdrop of someone else's flat, loud and strident and filled with explosions and the clatter of automatic gunfire; Paul guessed that it seemed louder to them, because of their new and improved hearing.

"Perhaps we should watch a film," Paul suggested, in a murmur, after a few moments of listening to the noise.

"Hmm. Maybe. I've got a better idea, though," Richard said, as he lifted one of Paul's hands to press warm kisses against Paul's knuckles. 

Paul chuckled slightly when he felt the purple wash of Richard's growing lust and watched as his lover continued to press kisses against the inside of his wrist; Paul shuddered, pleasurably, a soft and contented noise breaking free from his lips at the gentle, tender contact. Richard smiled as Paul's orange contentment, and mirroring purple lust mingled with his own; he kissed his way up Paul's arm and Paul turned into him when Richard jostled in closer for a proper kiss, stealing it from Paul's willing mouth whilst he still mainatined a hold on one of the smaller dragon's hands. Richard deepened the kiss, turned it dirty and sloppy and Paul returned it, brief noises of aroused enjoyment swallowed by Richard and returned back to him. They did little more than kiss for a while, before Richard rolled Paul onto his back, to lay partially atop him, mouth still locked against Paul's own. Paul felt a sudden surge of cerise coloured arousal race through his body at the promise of all that was to come, and his dick began to stiffen. He felt Richard's hand descend upon him, to press caresses against his flesh and he groaned, pleaded with Richard to make love to him, to fuck him, to make him feel good. Richard didn't reply, merely pressed more kisses against Paul's open, panting mouth, while bearing down upon Paul's fully hard cock. 

Richard turned Paul over, and pulled the smaller man's pyjama bottoms down so that Paul's arse was exposed to the dim light in the room. Paul moaned and waited, whilst Richard fished the lube from one of the bedside drawers and began to prepare him, fingers teasing and gentle against him as he prised Paul open ready for taking him. Paul was cursing, his dragon growling out his impatience to be taken by Richard and Richard replied, his own dragon growling and snapping in return as he finally laid atop Paul. Richard grabbed one of Paul's hands, pressed it down flat against the pillow beside his head, before he reached between them to guide himself inside Paul; Paul's cries were muffled against the pillow as Richard filled him, and began thrusting eagerly into him, after first checking to see whether Paul was all right, and comfortable. Paul was, and his purple tinged lust soon met and mingled with Richard's own, joining and twining until Paul wasn't sure any more where he ended and Richard started.

Paul cried out again, again, again, enjoying the feel of Richard against him, inside him, thrusting into him, each movement deep and rolling and harsh, as though Richard was trying to claim him, to leave an indelible mark upon Paul's body. Paul went with it, accepted every last rough thrust and caress and bite, as he reached down awkwardly to start touching himself, eager fingers stroking harshly at his flesh, as Richard thrust harder still inside him. Their mingled lust grew brighter and soon began coalescing into the gold-flecked red of impending release. Paul came, a loud wail of Richard's name swallowed by the pillows beneath him, as he climaxed hard against the sheets, body clenching and rippling against Richard's still thrusting cock. Richard bit him, teeth sinking deeply into his shoulder as he climaxed in turn, marking Paul for his own as his own prettily coloured release rolled through their link. 

Richard eased away and lay beside Paul for a while, as they relearned how to breathe. Richard was the first to move, leave the room and to return with a damp cloth, which he used to tenderly wipe the mess from his lover's body. Paul smiled and kept his eyes closed beneath Richard's careful ministrations, orange contentment soon accompanied by warm dragon-purrs rumbling in his throat; his lover's hands felt gentle and worshipful against his skin. Richard then cleaned himself off before he disposed of the soiled flannel in the laundry basket. Paul cracked his eyes open as Richard settled beside him once more, weariness spreading from Paul's body into his lover's.They remained silent, yet smiling still, at one another, as Paul settled comfortably against the other dragon, pink happiness shared between them, tinged with tight red coils of mutual love. Richard held him and they drifted off to sleep in one another's arms, as outside, the heat and the humidity broke, sending rumbles of thunder and bright flickers of lightning racing and booming across the night skies.


End file.
